


The Myth of Separation

by ChatoyantPenumbra



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe, Atem also takes his gay boyfriend back to the Netherworld with him because why the hell not, Bonds Beyond Time, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Dark Side of Dimensions, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Bonds Beyond Time, Post-Dark Side Of Dimensions, Synchroshipping - Freeform, basically Atem comes back from the Netherworld to visit his gay boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-24 17:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13815744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChatoyantPenumbra/pseuds/ChatoyantPenumbra
Summary: Atem has already made his peace and left the human realm to rest in the Netherworld, but someone keeps him coming back to visit.A series of drabbles.





	1. The City Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ifwegettherebysunset](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwegettherebysunset/gifts).



> In Yusei's time, this is not too long after the events of Bonds Beyond Time transpire, and for Atem it is also post-DSoD. The fact that we saw Atem able to travel freely through time and space without the help of Yugi or the Millennium Puzzle at the end of DSoD made me so excited, because now we know he's free to go anywhere and any time he wishes. ALL THE BETTER FOR CANON-FRIENDLY SYNCHROSHIPPING.
> 
> ALSO YOU DID THIS, IFWEGETTHEREBYSUNSET. You wrote an absolutely beautiful synchroshipping one-shot for me, and here's my genuine thank you!

The expanse of the city hums as he stares out over it, the stars above seeming to kiss the tops of the New Domino skyscrapers. The moon above is a thin crescent, like a smile above that looks down on her beautiful city and what it has become.

 

But only with his help.

 

New Domino is a beast, both beautiful and terrible, lulling at night but never quite resting, only to begin again in the morning for another sprint into the future. She is a machine, always moving forward and stopping for no man, no woman, no soul.

 

Yusei remembers her tragedies more than anyone, despite not being old enough to comprehend what was happening at the time of the Zero Reverse. Nevertheless he had to live through it, see others suffer the consequences of it, feel the extreme weight of guilt of his father’s mistakes upon his own shoulders. He sucks in a breath deep into his chest and holds it there, only allowing himself to release it as a slow sigh.

 

The city is much better now than it had been, now that the Satellite has been reunited with its other half, but still, the doubts prickle along the back of his ears in an uneasy tension like icy needles. He hates the feeling, the fear that perhaps a repeat of the past isn’t so far away, that humanity is just another mistake away from completely self-destructing under the weight of its own sins.

 

“Thinking too much of the past again, Yusei?”

 

The voice sends a wave of warmth flooding over his shoulders and chest, touching down into his ribcage as his gaze flickers back, away from the lights, away from the stars.

 

He sees the Sun, and he knows he can stare for as long as he wishes and never lose his vision to the man’s radiance.

 

Atem is there, his arms folded over his chest in that way that he does, a faint smirk on his lips in the way that Yusei fell in love with—the Satellite could imagine nothing else that could more effectively steal the breath from his lungs.

 

Yusei had missed the golden light, the one that always surrounds the Pharaoh when he materializes in this world, for he would have known as soon as he laid eyes upon it that at last the man had returned. By now, he’s seen it enough that he feels thoroughly conditioned, his heart having learned to race the moment the warm, sparkling glow met his vision, and he almost wishes he had been able to marvel at it again this time, for the gold tones brought out such a magnificent color in Atem’s eyes, one of rubies and amethysts, of wines from far-off lands.

 

“You’re back.”

 

It comes out as nothing more than a whisper, but that’s all that is needed to compel Atem to close the distance between them in several graceful strides. Awaiting arms welcome the Pharaoh, wrapping so tightly around the man’s smaller frame that he can only laugh breathlessly as his lips collide with Yusei’s.

 

Every kiss brings back a new hope for the world, making Fudo completely forget the bittersweet sorrow he had been feeling just minutes before, if but only for a time.

 

The two spend minutes, hours, lifetimes talking as they enjoy the view and the presence of each other, just as they always do when the Pharaoh returns. The moon dips deep into the sky as she watches them, a couple separated by time and now dimension but somehow still defying all of their laws. When she is satisfied enough to rest peacefully below the horizon, Yusei invites Atem to go back with him, just as he always does. And just like every other time, the Pharaoh is happy to oblige him, mounting the red duel runner so familiar by now and curling his body around Yusei’s.

 

But one thing changes.

 

This time, Fudo hands Atem his very own helmet with the ghost of a grin on his lips, but it is quickly concealed as he pulls his own over his head. The Egyptian King chuckles to himself, and he swears that by now, the man knows when he’ll come.

 

Their bond surpasses time, after all.

 

The ride back home is invigorating. The winds whip against their bodies, the torrents of cool air filling Atem with an inexplicable feeling that could never be replicated on horseback. He stretches out his arms like the wings of a bird, and the air caresses every feather. Yusei is careful with his driving as he feels the hands of his lover leave his torso. Atem laughs into the wind.

 

The Pharaoh is dead, but alongside Yusei, he is more alive than he has felt in millennia.

 

The garage door closes behind them. Crow and Jack’s runners are already parked inside, and Yusei does the same just feet away from the couch that he normally calls his bed. Fudo knows Atem is used to a much more extravagant lifestyle as Pharaoh—though he doesn’t know the half of it—and just as he always does, he feels ashamed that he has so little to offer his counterpart.

 

But Atem has never looked more content.

 

Yusei imagines the apartment would be much warmer than the garage, and he leads the way up the garage stairs to the main level. Atem watches him with a knowing smile, and Yusei steals a kiss before the chance to do so privately can be stripped from them.

 

It isn’t. The kitchen and living room are dead silent, and not a single light is switched on. Somewhere near the back of the apartment, they can hear a gentle snore. The motorcyclist cracks something of a grin. Probably Crow sleeping flat on his back with his mouth thrown wide open again.

 

Yusei offers Atem clothing to sleep in, and they change. When Atem returns from the bathroom wearing Yusei’s tank and a set of his sweats that are clearly two sizes too big for him, it takes all of Fudo’s self control to suppress his laugh. Atem shoots him a playful glare, but it’s forgotten soon enough as the King seats himself upon the couch and wraps the throw blanket folded neatly at the armrest around him. The apartment is warmer than the garage, but it’s still cool.

 

Yusei’s body warms him more.

 

The two missed their intimacy, the way their lips felt against each other’s, not just in passing kisses, but in the way Yusei could smell the desert winds and temple incense of the Netherworld in the Pharaoh’s hair when he ran his fingers through it, or in the way Atem experienced with a shuddering satisfaction the callouses created by countless hours of Yusei’s labor on the machinery of his bike gliding steadily, scraping ever-so-lightly against his own skin. They intertwine as much as they possibly can without breaking the quiet of the living room and risking waking Fudo’s roommates, and the television flickers, casting a myriad of moving colors and shadows over them. It buzzes with a soft, soothing chatter, but neither of them have the attention to spare for it.

 

They are lost, in the ridges and planes of each other’s bodies, in the heartbeats and short breaths, in the gentle roll of hips and hands following the flow of the movement, as beautifully fluid as water. But their lips are not reserved solely for each other’s. Yusei litters the Pharaoh’s collarbones with an assortment of affections, and by the time Atem is satisfied, crimson is already blooming in a variety of ovals at the base of the Champion’s neck.

 

The King pulls back to view his work, and he grins with a pride that Yusei can only grimace at when he realizes what his lover has done.

 

“It seems I’ve made your clothing choices a bit limited for the next couple of days,” Atem remarks, with an apologetic air that is somehow as paradoxically unapologetic as Yusei could imagine was possible. As if to make a mockery of his own words, Atem traces a well-manicured nail over one of the marks, drawing a shiver from the man below. Fudo attempts a scowl. Instead, he looks more embarrassed than anything.

 

“I’m running out of excuses for wearing turtlenecks, Atem.”

 

He laughs—and it’s this beautiful trill, like the twinkling of windchimes in the face of a gentle breeze—and he traces the straight edge of Yusei’s jawline. “Would you accept my apology?”

 

They stare at each other, charoite and sapphire ensnared by each other as if both expectant, but Atem chooses to give before his partner by pressing a slow and deliberate kiss to his lips. He feels Yusei’s arms tighten at the small of his back as they enjoy the simplicity of it, and at last the Pharaoh nestles his head into the crook of Fudo’s neck. Those familiar callouses trace shapes and comforting sparks into the back of his shoulder and the skin of his shoulder blade, overexposed due to the largeness of the tank in comparison to his body.

 

As they close their eyes, neither of them can seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s gay


	2. So He Dances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brilliance of the Pharaoh can be ignored by none as he dances, especially not by the onlooker Yusei. (Inspired by Josh Groban's "So She Dances")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came across Josh Groban's [So She Dances](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41qBffVg154) again, which is a song I have been deeply attached to since childhood. While listening to it, I couldn't help but picture Atem and Yusei and couldn't resist the urge to write it even so late at night, so here it is. I do encourage you to listen (perhaps even while you're reading if that won't interfere with concentration) since it's incredibly tender and gorgeous.

_A waltz when he walks in the room_

_He pulls back the hair from his face_

_He turns to the window to sway in the moonlight_

_Even his shadow has grace_

_He moves with the music_

_The song is his lover_

_The melody's making him cry_

_So he dances_

_In and out of the crowd like a glance_

_This romance is_

_From afar calling me silently_

 

_A waltz for the chance I should take_

_But how will I know where to start?_

_He's spinning between constellations and dreams_

_His rhythm is my beating heart_

 

_I can't keep on watching forever_

_I give up this view just to tell him_

 

_When I close my eyes I can see_

_The spotlights are bright on you and me_

_We've got the floor_

_And you're in my arms_

_How could I ask for more?_

 

Celebrations are not uncommonly held in the great halls of the palace these days, and even though Pharaoh Atem has never been known for his passionate inclination towards initiating the festivities—usually the events are organized by his more excitable court members—he could find no excuse to pass up the opportunity this time.

 

The banquet is alive with chatter, and masses of people fill the room with a feeling of excitement and delight. Full-bodied yet lighthearted melodies flow throughout the space from harps, lutes, and drums, making happiness bubble forth from the air like the blossoming of flowers that adorn every individual and decorate the platters of every delicacy. The smell of expensive perfume pales in comparison to the intoxicating scent of spices, cooked into every available bread, meat, and vegetable. All of the servants seem to be thoroughly enjoying themselves even as they serve the innumerable guests with the equally untold number of options of food and drink. Wine and beer permeate the air with a scent ever sweeter, and the faience plates, bowls, and cups clink jovially all about, adding to the sound of bustling gaiety.

 

The acrobats are a spectacle for all to see, but many have already turned their attention from the event as they sate their appetites with figs and honey; with deliciously tender pork, wafting with the aroma of cumin, rosemary, and garlic; washing it all down with rich, sanguine wines. They instead are all entranced with the sight of the Pharaoh as he rises from his mighty alabaster chair overlooking the entire scene.

 

The people know not to touch the King. Any man who so much as lays a finger upon the god made flesh will find it removed sooner than he can protest, and even among the Pharaoh’s inner circle of High Priests—and Priestess—they know better. All but one.

 

Mana is young and full of vibrant energy, her cheeks a rosy color from the warmth of libations as she guides her king from the seat of his power and invites him to dance. Priest Mahad begins to protest, but he has to bite back the sharp word for his student as the Pharaoh dismisses his concern for formalities with a gentle hand, the jeweled gold rings on his fingers sparkling brilliantly as they reflect the light of the braziers he and Mana pass. He allows her to take him by his other hand, and the crowd clears more than enough of a space for them to begin. Warm laughter and applause fills the hall as even the King chuckles at her excitement.

 

Despite all of the attention on the Pharaoh and his priestess-to-be, a pair of sapphire eyes stare the most intently out of everyone in the room, his gaze locked completely as he watches the two move with the music, the song having grown louder as the musicians have taken note that their monarch is in need of it.

 

With every step, the two sway and their robes bloom open like they are the embodiment of budding spring. Their dance is a harmony between leading and following, and Mana bursts into a fit of giggling that fills the air like the ring of bells. She looks as though she has never had so much fun in all of her life.

 

The crowd coos a chorus of _oohs_ and _aahs_ , and the whites, golds, and accented crimsons of Atem’s attire made specifically for this occasion blend beautifully with the whites, golds, and azures of Mana’s own dress. For once, she is unadorned by her typical headwear, leaving her cinnamon hair to flow freely under the crown of flowers she’s woven herself using the wreaths given to all of the guests. The Pharaoh also wears a new crown, not one of flowers, but one crafted with the depiction of Osiris. Its mighty wings are flared open not unlike his other crown, but the Eye of Wdjat is replaced with the Sky Dragon’s double mouth, and its chin forms a sharper _v_ between Atem’s eyes, giving him the appearance of a fierce and equally wise hawk. Osiris’ eyes are shining fire opals and the gem atop its head is a massive setting of alexandrite, and with every movement the King can be described as nothing but shimmering brilliance in the blazing light of the fires.

 

The scene of him is utter beauty as Yusei looks on, watching every shift of hip, every twirl and spin, every step and flutter of linen. Their shadows mimic their movements, whirling and unfurling in every direction as the fires casting light dance in their respective braziers. Even Yusei’s mouth becomes dry as he views the two in their wholehearted entwining, and it is a feeling that cannot be sated no matter how much he drinks from the cup in front of him, decorated with the design of lotuses. The golden mantle wrapped around Atem’s shoulders leaves just enough of his neck exposed above his solid gold Usekh and neck collars that it calls to Yusei’s entire being, drawing him in like a parched man stranded in the desert for days on end to crisp, cool waters. The Signer can think of nothing but pressing his lips to that soft flesh again, slowly, tenderly, allowing his affection to be felt as intensely as it is shown.

 

But he cannot, because the room is filled with countless people, thoroughly enjoying themselves with the scene of their Pharaoh and his Priest’s apprentice enjoying the livelihood of the celebration.

 

Yusei forgets it’s all for him.

 

The King closes his eyes now, familiar enough with Mana’s movements that he is confident in his own around her. A magnificent smile graces his features, bringing delight up into his high cheekbones as even the corners of his eyes crinkle with the feeling. His golden mantle sweeps against the maroon stone floors, and in that moment like never before, it is perfectly evident that he is not a man, but a _God_ gracing the Netherworld and all of its inhabitants with his presence.

 

Yusei is not sure when he rises from his seat, drawing the attention of not only all of Atem’s most trusted advisors, but his father, Akhenamkhanen, as well. The late Pharaoh watches with a knowing gaze, and something of a grin angles just the very corners of his lips.

 

Yusei hears not the applause and cheers when Atem and Mana end their dance, the song changing, but its melody just as upbeat lest more dancing begin. Mana excitedly runs off to rejoin Mahad’s side, but even as she dashes past Yusei, he takes no notice of her when Atem turns to find his lover approaching. His amethyst eyes are bright with joy, and it is a sight that shakes Yusei to the core of his being, filling him with a feeling that cannot be properly and wholly articulated with mere words even if he dedicated himself to the study for the rest of his life.

 

But there is no need, for as soon as their gazes meet, the Pharaoh understands him. A bejeweled hand reaches out for its owner’s counterpart, seizing on white and royal blue robes to pull them even closer. Two sets of lips press passionately yet chastely together, and the resounding echo of a collective gasp fills the hall.

 

It is the first kiss in public they have, and Yusei will look upon it later with an embarrassment that turns even the tips of his ears red, but for now, he cannot bring himself to care. He is too drunk on the intoxicating presence of Atem to notice everyone else, even as they erupt in excited applause, finally having proof of the long-rumored romance between the two.

 

“Dance with me, Yusei.”

 

“I’m not good at dancing…”

 

“I was able to watch Anzu teach Yugi once; won’t you try it even if I lead?” Atem’s eyes glimmer with a hopefulness that weakens the toughest of Yusei’s convictions, and the slightest slump of the Signer’s broad shoulders tells the Pharaoh that he’s persuaded him.

 

Another smile lights his eyes, and Yusei can see his own reflection in them.

 

He knows there is no better place to be as Atem guides Yusei’s gentle, hesitant hands to his waist and hand, beginning the waltz that weaves its graceful, swaying way around the massive hall, surrounded by all of the Pharaoh’s people that Yusei can finally call his own; and ending finally, deep into the night, tangled in the sheets of the King under the pale moonlight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely hope you guys liked this! As I mentioned, this song is incredibly near and dear to my heart, so please comment and tell me how it made you feel!

**Author's Note:**

> it's gay


End file.
